Page 104 of Bene

“Where?”

“Downtown.”

“Where?”

“At a friend’s place. Or, I tried to see her. She wasn’t home.”

“What friend?”

Bene sighed. “Why am I still sitting here? You’ve pressed no charges, and all you’ve done is piss me off, and try to insult me. Now, you want to play another round of twenty questions? I don’t have the patience for this shit.”

Keefs peered at Bene over the rim of his reading glasses. “First, you were arrested because—”

“A cop thought it was okay to rip my mother away from my father after they practically dragged him out of his home with his hands zip tied at his back. What, they don’t give you fucks enough money for a set of cuffs or two per pig, or what?”

The lawyer to his left coughed. “Easy, Bene.”

Yeah, easy his motherfucking ass. This cop could eat his whole fucking ass, too, if he thought he was going to get a single drop of respect from Bene.

Unquestioningly, his father handled the arrest with the same grace, respect, and dignity he faced everything else in his life. That was what Gian Guzzi did. It’s what a Don had to do for his family, and organization. These things were inevitable, and it was how he would be portrayed to the public after the arrest because of how he acted during the arrest that made all the difference at times. It was the same thing he taught his sons, too, even if Bene sometimes preferred to handle things in a more … undignified manner.

Gian would have been fine.

But then his ma got in on it.

Bene wasn’t doing that shit.

At all.

“What friend?” the man asked.

Jesus Christ.

The man wasn’t going to let it go.

Not that it made a difference. Bene wasn’t concerned with letting Vanna’s name slip in this interview. She wasn’t connected to the mob, and certainly not to his family. Hell, the woman hadn’t even really known about his connections, right? She asked a bit, hinted that maybe she knew what the rumors were, but that was it.

It wouldn’t hurt.

“Vanna Falco.”

The second her name came out of his lips, the detective’s writing—whatever he was scratching to the pad of paper in front of him—stilled all at once. He continued staring at Bene, though, and while he caught the hesitation in his hand, he also saw something in his eyes.

Was that … recognition?

Bene held the man’s stare.

Keefs swallowed hard. “Hmm.”

“Do you know her?”

The man shook his head, but Bene didn’t miss the way his gaze narrowed a bit before he looked down and said, “Can’t say that I do.”

“You sure about that?”

Tells.

Everybody had them.